Christmas Lights and Memories
by LibbyKate
Summary: Puck, Santana, Christmas lights and memories. Rated T for language.


**Ta Da! Here's another story! Let me know what you think, I'm not sure I like this one as much as the others...**

**Manda- this for your you. You are such an incredibly amazing friend, I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes.**

**Disclaimer- Unfortunately I don't own Glee. Or anyone in it.**

**Enjoy!**

**Libby x  
**

Puck watches the Christmas lights dance in front of him. It's his first Christmas as….well, it's their first Christmas and damn him if he's not going to make this as special as he can. He sees the way her eyes light up at Christmas, she's like a little kid. He thinks it's adorable, and would tell her that too, if telling her didn't equal getting hit in the back of the head. Or worse.

He's wondering how he got here, how they got here, after all didn't everyone say it wouldn't last? That sooner or later the fire would die out?

_She's broken, he can see it in her eyes. He's wondering what's wrong, how he can fix this when all of a sudden she's in his arms._

"_San, what's wrong?"_

_She's breathing deeply, trying not to fall apart. She looks right into his eyes. He's scared, he's never seen her quite like this before._

"_Tell me this means something. Tell me it's not all about sex."_

_He would have laughed if she wasn't so upset. With Santana, everything was about sex. That's just the way it was._

"_San, this means everything." He whispers into her hair. He holds her tightly, as if he alone can stop her breaking into tiny pieces._

"_You're everything to me."_

The star on top of the tree sits lopsided, thanks to Santana.

_She refuses Puck's help. She's in charge of the decorations, she doesn't trust him to do it right. Puck comes into the living room just in time to see Santana fall and disappear into the Christmas tree. He swears he has a mini heart attack._

"_San, what the fuck! Be careful!" _

_He's all worried and shit, which she finds adorable. She sticks a hand out of the tree. "Puck, stop hyperventilating and help me out will you? I can't do it on my own"_

_He pulls her up, along with a few stray branches, and can't help but smirk at the bits of tinsel sticking out of her hair, and the lights wrapped around her ankle._

_She snuggles into his arms, as close as she can get, and breathes him in. She's excited, she's nervous, she's in love. _

_He kisses the top of her head, gets a mouthful of tinsel. _

"_Next time, let me do it, ok?"_

_She looks up at him, grinning. "Hey, I got the star up there didn't I?"_

He thinks it looks better crooked. He thinks he'll make Santana put the star on every year.

She's standing in the doorway, dressed in one his old sweatshirts, watching him. She's not quite sure how this happened, not quite sure how they got here of all places.

They are so similar it scares her sometimes. They fight with such a passion, love with such a fever, she's amazed they haven't self destructed by now. Like everyone thought they would.

_They've amazed everyone, and each other, by staying together a whole year. Not that it was all smooth sailing, they were Puck and Santana after all. _

"_Just leave me alone!" she shouts, emerging from the car and slamming the door with such force it rebounds back out._

"_San…wait….it wasn't…."_

_She's not listening. Hot tears are streaming down her cheeks, and she's trying to run, be anywhere but here, but she's being slowed down by her stupid heels._

_He catches up to her as she stops to take them off, grabs her arm to stop her._

"_You are such…a fucking…..liar!" she spits, her words coming in fits and starts. She's struggling to get away. From him, from here, from the whole memory of the stupid dance._

_He's holding tight to her wrist, it's like trying to contain a firework. Puck squeezes her wrist tight, partly to distract her and partly to stop her from hitting him in the face._

"_What the fuck, San?" He doesn't understand, he thought they had something good going, thought they'd worked through all their shit._

"_Quinn" she chokes out, her voice full of such despair that Puck shivers. "I saw you dancing, I saw what happened" She's shaking so hard that Puck lets go of her._

"_Santana, nothing happened. We danced and she put her hands on my ass."_

_At this, Santana starts to walk away. She doesn't want to hear it, she's tired of it, she thought they were past it._

"_If you must know, I told her to back off. Told her I was taken."_

_She stops and turns around slowly. He's standing there, in his suit, the flower in his buttonhole knocked sideways from where she's hit it with her arm._

"_Really?"_

_She inches closer, and he opens his arms just wide enough for her to fit in. _

"_Yep. Told her my girlfriend would kick her ass if she tried that again. I mean really, its not my fault she's dating a guy whose lips are bigger than Angelina Jolie's"_

_Despite herself, she laughs. _

_The hug, they kiss, they make up. They are Puck and Santana after all, don't they always fight and make up?_

The Christmas lights dance around her. She glances down at her finger, the diamond sparkling red, blue and green as the lights shine on it. She's still watching him, and god she loves him so much it hurts her.

_It's snowing. They're outside, playing with snowballs. They're acting like 5 year olds but hey they've always been slightly immature anyway and they're in love so who cares?_

_Santana sneaks around the front of the house, the Christmas lights turning her blue and green as she searches for Puck, snowball in hand and revenge in her eyes._

_She feels something hit her in the back of the head. It's a snowball, but it's hard, and it hurts. She thinks it's gonna bruise, and so will Puck's face when she gets hold of him._

"_Ouch! What the hell, Puck?"_

_She spins around to see him standing there grinning like an idiot._

"_Aren't you going to see what hit you?" he says, looking every bit like a little kid on Christmas morning._

_She sighs. "I know what it was, Puck. A fucking snowball! But what the hell did you…." Words fail her as she spots the tiny box lying in the snow. She bends to pick it up but all at once her legs turn to jelly and she sits down, overwhelmed. _

_So Puck does it for her. He picks up the box and sits next to her, his face turning different colours in the lights. Santana would laugh if she could remember how to breathe._

"_San….I….I don't know where to start. I know we've been through so much shit, and a lot of the time our relationship is fucked up. But we make it work, and I can't imagine doing this with anyone but you" _

_He's starting to ramble but he doesn't care. He owes her this. He wants this.  
_

"_You've been in my life since always. I know you inside and out. And as much as we like to think it's all about the sex, and hey we're damn good at it, you and I both know it's more than that._

_He takes a deep breath, and opens the box._

"_I fucking love you Santana. With everything I have. Marry me?"_

_Her head is spinning, she can't breathe, can't see anything but his face. Her heart is pounding, she feels like she's had too much to drink. Feels like she's floating, like she's dancing.  
_

_She's never wanted this more. Never wanted this with anyone but him. And she knows it's more than sex, despite what Quinn says. It's not about Quinn anyway. _

_Her chocolate eyes are shining and her cheeks are flushed._

"_Way to win a snowball fight, Puckerman."_

_He laughs and slips the ring onto her finger. It's beautiful, and fits like the two of them together._

"_So is that a yes?"_

_She kisses him. Kisses him with passion, with lust, with love, as the lights dance around them and create fireworks on their skin._

"_That's a yes"_

He sees her in the doorway, and he moves over on the couch so she can sit with him. The Christmas lights sparkle in her eyes as she comes over and sits on his lap. Her swollen belly is barely covered by his sweatshirt but damn if she isn't the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Their hands knot together on top of their unborn child. He kisses behind her ear and she leans into him, all gorgeous and smiley and completely excited by Christmas and what they've done.

"You're cute when you're excited" he tells her, breaking into a grin when their baby kicks his hand. He still can't believe they are going to be parents, still can't believe they made a baby. It's wonderful and mind-blowing and just a little bit scary. He just hopes the baby looks like her.

"Shut up. You tell anyone, I'll kick you in the balls, and this will be the first and the last baby we'll have." But she's laughing too. She loves how excited he is about the baby, never thought they of all people would be all settled down and shit with a baby on the way. But there you have it. Here they are. And she knows she doesn't want it any other way.

If anyone had told them they would end up like this, they'd have laughed. They're Puck and Santana, the bitch and the jock. They fight, they sleep around, the hurt each other, they lie to each other, they want each other.

But they're Puck and Santana. The girl and the boy. They're engaged, they live together, they make love to each other, they need each other, they complete each other.

They watch the Christmas lights together, entwined in each other. It doesn't matter how they got here. Despite all the shit they have been through, despite no-one thinking they would (or could for that matter), they did it. They've got the house, the dog. They're having a baby.

They made it. Together.


End file.
